


A Temporary Discomfort

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e29 Operation - Annihilate, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A discomfort of one is worth the lives of a million.A short coda to the episode Operation: Annihilate! set before the finale scene.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32
Collections: Anonymous





	A Temporary Discomfort

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [FandomStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomStar/pseuds/FandomStar), [Kisaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisaru), and [swimmingwolf59](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingwolf59/pseuds/swimmingwolf59) for letting me ask questions. All remaining mistakes are my own.

McCoy switched the comm off.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jim had said, but McCoy didn’t believe it. Jim never stayed mad at him for long, no matter what, but this time Jim’s words couldn’t change the grief, guilt, and shame McCoy felt.

Bad and rushed decisions had accompanied him all his life, both in private and in his profession. When he was younger, he naively thought that with growing age he’d make fewer decisions he’d regret, but deep inside he was still the same young man who had said “I do” without being sure. The same young man who had chosen a career over a family. The same young man who had left a woman he loved out of fear of repeating his failed marriage. The same young man who had pushed a button to end a life.

And that same man pushed a lever with doubts.

The PADD slipped through his fingers and hit the desk with a quiet thud, the stylus rolling off to the surface.

In the past, Spock had told him that his single-minded focus on the situation in front of him, without considering the wider consequences, without thinking outside the box, outside the rules of their galaxy, would cost him one day. But he doubted that even Spock had imagined such catastrophic results.

As he eyed the door to the sickbay proper, something ugly twisted inside his stomach. Exhaling, he stood up and walked over. He leaned against the doorframe and looked at the biobed furthest from the door.

Spock lay on it, eyes closed.

A quick glance at the digital panel above the biobed confirmed that Spock wasn’t asleep, but McCoy was hesitant to break the silence. The pain Spock had suffered for hours took a toll on his body and mind, and he needed all the rest he could get. And talking to the man who damaged his eyesight wasn’t a prescription McCoy would recommend.

He turned around, taking a step towards his desk, but Spock’s voice stopped him.

“Doctor McCoy.” It wasn’t a question.

McCoy walked to the biobed. One slow step after another. He stopped and wet his lips.

“Spock,” he said, his eyes flickering from Spock’s face to the digital panel and back. “Jim wanted me to tell you it had worked.”

“I’ve heard.” Spock sat and turned to face McCoy. His eyes stayed unfocused.

McCoy’s fingers clenched into the fabric of his shirt.

“It was not your fault, Doctor.”

McCoy took a harsh breath through his teeth. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t.”

“I made the calculations. It did not occur to me—”

“Stop.” McCoy interrupted him. “You were compromised, and it wasn’t your job to figure it out. It was mine. I made a mistake, and now you’re paying for it.”

“It was my decision,” Spock said firmly. “I was aware of the cost.”

“But was it worth it?” McCoy asked harshly.

“A discomfort of one is worth the lives of a million.”

“A discomfort?” McCoy repeated, incredulous. “Spock, I ruined your career.”

“While it is true I cannot continue to serve as the first officer on the Enterprise, there are other occupations.”

The calm, flat intonation angered McCoy. “Would another job make you happy?”

Spock titled his head. “Happiness is a human emotion.”

“Cut the bullshit, Spock!”

“It is what it is, Doctor.” Spock ran his fingers over the blanket covering him. “The reality cannot be changed, and we must accept it.”

McCoy shifted his weight and sat down on the edge of Spock’s biobed. Spock didn’t turn to look at him.

“I know you think you can explain this with logic, but you can’t. Oh, you can try, you can even believe it for a while, but you will resent me one day.”

Spock frowned but said nothing.

McCoy looked at the ceiling, counting to three. “Look, Spock…”

“It’s quite alright, Doctor.” It sounded final.

McCoy started to pick nonexistent specks of dust from his pants, reluctant to leave. Spock closed his eyes. What would Spock do from now on? Would he return to Vulcan? Would he stay in contact?

Now, that made him pause. The thought of never seeing Spock again twisted the insides of his stomach. It shouldn’t have mattered. The colleagues went and came. Some of them promising to stay in contact, yet never doing so. But Spock… he wasn’t just a colleague anymore, and that was one hell of a realization to make.

Spock opened his eyes, and McCoy startled. He didn’t realize he’d leaned so close to Spock’s face.

Spock blinked, twice, three times, and his eyebrow went up.

“Fascinating.”

“What’s that?” McCoy leaned closer.

Spock’s eyes met his.

“I can see again, Doctor.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Spock,” McCoy said, leaning away. Before he could stand up, Spock grasped his wrist; no fumbling, no hesitation.

“I do not joke.”

“That’s not possible.” Without thinking, McCoy cupped Spock’s face with his free hand, leaning closer, as if he could tell what had happened by touch and sight. He couldn’t. Spock’s eyes appeared the same as they had a moment ago, as they did when McCoy had done his first examination.

When he’d examined him before, he couldn’t find anything wrong with Spock’s eyes. The nerves hadn’t been burnt out, the retinae hadn’t been damaged, yet Spock couldn’t see. There were some unusual components in Vulcan eyes that weren’t present in a human’s, but McCoy was a surgeon, not an ophthalmologist, and the computer’s data were unhelpful and heavily incomplete.

Spock’s grip on McCoy’s wrist tightened before he let go and shoved aside the hand that was touching his face.

“I’m quite alright now, Doctor.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” McCoy stood up, rubbing his wrist in an echo of Spock’s warm touch. When he caught Spock’s eye, he dropped it hastily, mentally swearing. He bounced on his feet, daring Spock to say something, but Spock remained silent, watching McCoy with an unreadable, yet somehow soft expression.

“Stay in bed.”

*

The examination didn’t bring much. There were some changes in the inner structure of Spock’s eyes, but McCoy wasn’t sure what to make of them yet. There was no mistake though. Spock could see. It was unbelievable. Or perhaps not. Spock always bragged about how his Vulcan body was superior to a human one, and McCoy might have hand it to him this time. Not that he’d tell him.

“Now, tell me, Mister Spock—” McCoy straightened and folded his arms across his chest— “how is it possible?”

“Imagine it like an inner shield that protects us against high-intensity light.”

McCoy frowned and bent down to scan Spock’s eyes again.

Spock sighed. “Doctor—”

“Shut up.”

McCoy needed to record as much as possible so he could examine it later in peace. The Starfleet Medical would also receive a pointed message about updating their database for non-human species.

“Why didn’t you tell me it wouldn’t be permanent?” And save me some grief, he didn’t say.

Spock looked away.

McCoy’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

Spock avoided looking at him. “I knew,” he said slowly. “It is truly curious that I’ve forgotten.”

McCoy shook his head, smiling fondly. “Not that curious, Spock.”

He squeezed Spock’s upper arm, lingering for a bit longer than was strictly professional.

Spock simply inclined his head, and something inside McCoy eased.

“Alright. You’re fit as a fiddle, so let’s go and tell the good news to everybody else.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading!


End file.
